


Surviving Dreams

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:31:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1306636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on an impromptu road trip, Castiel Novak finds himself held hostage at the secluded Winchester Inn, run by off-the-grid serial killers, Sam and Dean Winchester. Forced to relay his dreams to Sam, an aspiring author with writer's block, Castiel uses his wild imagination to survive each day. Soon winning the favour of the Sam, and the affection of Dean, Castiel finds himself in a struggle of character, and a battle between morality and love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Castiel was driving. And there wasn’t anywhere he was trying to get to, he was just going. Road trips had never been his thing, and when he’d been dragged along on them before, he’d simmer in the front seat, flipping through the CD case or thinking about stories his mind would dream up. There were very little instances where Castiel actually joined in on the excitement transpiring around him. And that not only applied to road trips, but his entire life. He was what people called a wallflower. He could socialise quite well when the situation called for it, but for the most part he hung back. Observing the people around him with the utmost interest. 

Over time he found that he was good at reading people. When a woman’s smile would falter, even in the slightest, he could understand an array of emotions that she was feeling. Many times he was right, and would go to comfort those who needed it when they did. Because of this..gift, he was well loved by all who resided in his life. And that led to many a road trip that he agreed to go on, if only to sate the others’ best interests.

This time, however, Cas enjoyed his time on the road. He assumed it was because this trip happened due to his own desire to go. All the other times his friends had pulled him along, blaring whatever the radio insisted on playing repeatedly and singing along in an utterly terrible, yet strikingly amusing off pitch rendition. He’d laugh, and turn back down to the book of CDs that’d never be used. He couldn’t say they weren’t fun, but it was right to assume that his road trips would never involve loud music or even louder sing alongs.

No, on Cas’ road trip, it was quiet. Only he occupied the beaten down Chevelle that his parents passed down to him. A young Paul McCartney was singing quietly about some plucky girl that’d caught his eye, and how he wished he could be with her. The music was turned down low, to make room for Castiel’s thoughts. There were many of them throughout his days; mostly simple, mundane tasks that he’d remembered about. Sometimes though, Castiel’s thoughts took him on a wild adventure in his mind. He’d meet the creator of The Grand Canyon, or lead a war that had the potential to change the entire human race. They came often, these wild thoughts. And Cas would push them away to focus on his job, or friends, or hobbies. The mandatory responsibilities that came with being an adult in this factory line world. 

But despite all of this that he worked on throughout the day, Castiel would take an hour before going to bed just to write down everything. If something came to his mind, he would write it down. No colorful adjectives to describe them, or vivid imagery, no nothing like that. Castiel wasn’t a writer. He was just..an associative manager who liked to write. 

Cas’ thoughts caught up to him as he snapped back to the road ahead, and the glowing motel sign that lay just beyond a blurry cactus silhouette. The sign was blue, and outlined the words _Winchester Inn_ in a fuzzy orange light that attracted the company of many flies who circled around each other in an endless game of tag. 

_Well, looks to be the only open shelter here. Might as well stop_ Castiel’s eyes flicked from the glowing motel sign to a row of three trailers that sat behind a white sign claiming to be the, _Winchester Trailer Park_. Underneath in red italics, it pushed the invite with a simple, _Go ahead, stay awhile._

_These Winchesters must be doing well for themselves if they have an inn and a trailer park with what appears to be customers._ Cas pulled into the dirt parking lot outside of the seemingly nice motel rooms. He pushed the driver door shut and clicked the lock before making his way into the front office. A bell dinged when the door opened, and Cas walked through. 

He was greeted by a tall man in a plaid flannel. His hair was long, and he’d fixed it twice since Cas entered the room. The name Sam adorned his gold name tag in cursive black letters. Sam looked up and smiled, Cas noted how absolutely puppy-like this large man was and smiled back, astounded at the similarity.

“Hi, welcome to the Winchester Inn my name is Sam.” He pointed to his name tag, “How can I help you?” Cas opened his mouth to speak, but a head popped out of the back room before he could get a word out. 

“Sam? Customer?” He stepped out of the room and behind the desk next to Sam. The man was inches shorter than him, but gave off a very strong feeling. His shoulders were held back to make himself appear taller, and he wore many layers, the outermost being a brown leather jacket that looked years old. He furrowed his eyebrows, a movement that only drew more attention to his sparkling green eyes. He had no name tag, but rather outstretched a hand to Cas after Sam nodded and let him take over. 

Cas found the whole interaction strange, but moved his hand forward as the man spoke. His hand was rough, and awfully calloused, but Castiel couldn’t help but feel a childlike giddiness at the touch. He broke eye contact and looked down to hide the red rose that he felt burning his cheeks.

“Dean. Dean Winchester. You’ve met my brother Sam, can I get you a room?” The angry expression still stood on his face as he grabbed a pen and waited for Cas to speak. Castiel cleared his throat. 

“Uh, yeah. A room, please.” Castiel noticed the anger wipe from Dean’s face when he heard him speak. Dean’s voice had been rather deep, and wildly gruff, but Cas secretly smoldered at the fact that he had a deeper voice. It’d been one of the things Castiel admired most about himself. And he was almost certain that it caught Dean by surprise.

“Sure thing, you’ll be in room eight. Can I see a credit card and some ID?” Cas handed him the cards and stood there rocking on his heels while Dean put him into the system. Sam reached under the desk, pulled out a key and placed it next to Dean. He briefly looked at Cas and offered a wan smile before turning back to his laptop. “Alright, you’re all set. Thanks Mr..” Dean looked at the cards and then handed them back to Cas, along with his room key, “..Novak. Hope you enjoy your stay.” He smiled at Cas and turned to retreat into his back room. 

Sam cleared his throat and Dean stopped in his tracks. He turned and faced Castiel.

“Right. Help with your bags?” Dean made his way over to Castiel’s dufflebag and suitcase, lifting them both with ease and nodding his head for Cas to follow him. Cas noticed Dean give Sam a wink before exiting the office. 

Once again, he found himself thinking how odd the entire scene was. 

“So, what brings you out to this wasteland?” It was clear that Dean wasn’t used to small talk, his voice was forced and stolid. 

“Road trip. Needed to get away” Castiel looked on as the man nodded in compliance and set the bags down in front of a door marked _8._ He outstretched his hand and looked at Cas.

“I’m gonna need your key.” He continued to stare and Castiel saw a pink tint bloom on his perfectly freckled cheekbones. 

_God, there are so many._ Cas thought as he handed him the key. Their fingers brushed together and suddenly Cas felt like a shy middle schooler who’s just had his first kiss. Dean fumbled around with the lock before opening the door and walking inside with the bags. Castiel followed yet again.

“There aren’t any towels in here, but I’ll send Sam down with some in a bit. Enjoy your stay, checkout time is noon.” Dean shook his head, muttering something inaudible as he walked out. The door shut behind him with a click, and Castiel slid the chain into a locked position right after. He’d felt both intrigued and perturbed by the two brothers who ran this hotel. 

_It’s not like they’ve given me anything to worry about._ He attempted to convince himself as he laid out white pajama bottoms and a matching cotton shirt. _If anything, that Dean has been hospitable._ He chuckled to himself, shaking his head and pulling off his shirt. 

There was a knock at the door as Castiel pulled down the white shirt and jumped at the sudden noise. 

_Just Sam with the towels._ Cas undid the chain and opened the door, Sam didn’t have a monumental height difference, but somehow Castiel still felt small. There was an absence of towels in Sam’s hands, which gave Castiel a shot of alarm. 

“Oh, hello. Dean told me you’d be bringing-” Cas was cut off as Sam moved to put him in a headlock, and held a damp rag over his mouth. He noticed that Sam’s eyes were still soft, and his mouth was turned down in a sorrowful expression.

“I’m sorry. But I need-” The words blurred together and Castiel collapsed, unconscious in Sam’s arms.

\--

Castiel woke up later, shivering on a stone floor. He sat up in the dark room and heard shuffling right after.

“He’s awake! Hey! Over here!” A woman’s voice became clear in Cas’ head, and he looked around for the owner. 

“There’s someone else!”

“What’s your name?”

“Were you alone?”

_1..2..3..4_ Castiel counted off the voices in his head. He continued to look around, it was dark but shapes popped out at him over the course of several minutes. He realised that there were bars in front of him, and even more in front of those. He stood up and continued to stare. 

“Shut the hell up and leave him alone. He’s just as scared as the rest of us, let him get his bearings.” Another woman.

_Five. Five voices._ He turned around to face the shadow of the last voice’s owner. Her voice was sultry, and very slow. She spoke with no urgency and instead spoke with power. 

“Castiel. My name is Castiel. Where am I?” His voice faltered slightly when he became aware of the soreness that lived in his neck. He turned his head again and attempted to crack it to relieve pain. 

“Castiel. Sweetie, we’re in a murder house.” The woman sighed and began tapping her finger on one of her bars. He recognised the song but couldn’t put a name to it. 

“A murder house?” He considered the concept. 

“Yes, a murder house. Those asshole brothers are insane.” There was no remorse in her voice, she sounded angry rather than scared, and her tapping changed pace. Castiel couldn’t help but admire her gumption. 

“Tell him why Meg, tell him.” One of the voices pushed the woman, Meg apparently, to speak. His voice was afraid and anxious.

“You interested in the story there Cas?” Meg stopped tapping.

“Yes.” Castel wasn’t interested in speaking much. 

“As I said, these brothers, they’re insane. The tall one is a writer, but the boy hasn’t had an idea in years. Apparently he doesn’t dream anymore, and when he does dream they’re these really sick, sadistic dreams. Hell and torture, all that jazz. They’ve pulled me out of here a few times, made me tell my dreams. Lucky I’m a lucid dreamer or I’d have been chopped up the first night here. Others haven’t been so lucky.” Castiel found a misshapen confidence in that last sentence. She began tapping again. 

“And the..the older one?” Cas frowned upon his immediate trust of Dean. He had seemed so..it didn’t matter. He wasn’t good, despite first appearances. 

“Ah, pretty boy Dean Winchester. I guess he just feels responsible for the kid, like he has to keep him safe. I don’t know that he’s ever killed, but he’s sat by while his brother did and that’s just as bad in my eyes. I mean, I’ve done my fair share of shit, but nothing like this.” Castiel saw her shift away and knew she was done talking. He was fine with it, she’d told him enough. 

Not everyone got the same message.

“Meg! Tell him about-” The other woman began

“Shut up, Becky! I’m done. You tell him.” Meg was sharp with her tongue, and seconds later Castiel heard sniffling. He jumped into what he did best.

“Look, Becky, it’s okay. I don’t need to know whatever it is, and I’m sure Meg is just tired. I am sure all of you are tired. This is a scary situation we’re all put in, but you’ve made it this far. It’s okay, it is going to be okay.” Castiel realised he’d been standing this entire time, and he sat down facing the cage that he assumed was Becky’s. She looked up from her hands at him. 

It was dark, but he offered her a smile. Castiel liked to think that she smiled back. 

\--

All six of them sat in silence for a long time. Meg stopped tapping after she ran out of songs. Castiel leaned into a corner of his cage, looking up at the black ceiling and wondering why he ended up in this situation. He wasn’t afraid, he wasn’t panicking, he was utterly calm. 

And that was what struck him as strange. 

_You’re safe_ was the one thought that echoed throughout his mind whenever his mind caught up with the situation and he began to panic. There was no viable reason that he had to feel safe. More likely than not he was going to die, but he thought about home, and the feeling that he had before he left on his trip. Like he had to leave, like he had to escape. And a part of his mind took this situation as an escape. Granted, it was more permanent than he expected, but coming from the circumstances of his escape, he was okay. 

_You’re going to stay alive_ Also struck his mind plenty. He knew that he wouldn’t give up. It wasn’t like him to just simple give up. So he wouldn’t. But he accepted this, and in this acceptance he found serenity. 

There was a third part of Castiel that believed maybe this was just an in-the-moment thing. That, when the time really came to face the Winchesters and relay his dreams, he wouldn’t be ready. He would be afraid, and worried, and he would panic. 

Castiel got the chance to see only moments later. 

\--

A bright yellow light flooded the dark room not much later. The light outlined a tall figure, and Castiel could only assume that it was Sam. He walked over to a row of switches on the wall that Cas only now noticed. Sam pressed one marked _8_ and the metal door on Castiel’s cage lifted up with a loud rasp that raised goosebumps on Castiel’s skin. 

Sam left the room after the door was pulled all the way up, leaving Cas to his own devices. 

_What do I do?_ He remained sat on the floor, leaning against the back corner and staring at the open door. As if reading his mind, Meg spoke.

“Looks like you’ve got your fifteen minutes of fame. Good luck.” She started tapping again. And instead of a rhythm, she tapped instead with a maniacal pattern.

Castiel stood up, brushing off his jeans and noticing a slight tear in his white pajama shirt. He sighed and walked out of his cage, towards the illuminated door. 

Sam was waiting for him right outside the door, and Cas looked up at him, his eyes were remorseful. And suddenly, he couldn’t understand how such a gentle looking giant could commit such horrible acts. He opened his mouth to speak. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, but if you can’t give me what I need…” he paused and bit his lip, peeling off a light pink layer of skin, “then I’m going to have no choice.”

Castiel looked at him, squinting his eyes and pushing, “And if I do give you what you need?”  
Sam straightened himself right up, “Then you get dinner.” 

\--

Castiel’s hands had promptly been tied up and he was led from the room- he’d found that it was a whole system underneath the motel, with an exit spitting them out into the office’s back room- to a car parked outside. It was a beautiful, sleek black Chevy Impala. Castiel didn’t know the year, but it was a classic. And he couldn’t help but admire it in silence as he walked closer.

Dean sat in the front seat, left hand positioned on the steering wheel and right one fumbling with something next to him. Castiel saw that it had been music when he lifted up a tape and brought it close to his eyes in order to read it. He then jammed it in the tape deck and turned the volume up. Castiel could hear a muffled James Hetfield singing Ride The Lightning from inside the car. 

Despite what was happening, Cas found himself hiding a smile when Dean started pounding his hands on the wheel to the beat of the music. 

_God, is this what I’ve become? A man who finds humour in the face of death?_ He looked up into the sky, and noticed the sun was somewhere between its setting point and its peak. This led him to believe that it was mid-afternoon. He looked back at the car and walked over to the door adjacent to Dean’s. Sam was already seated shotgun, so Cas attempted to open the door himself. 

After a few tries, Dean clicked off the music and got out of the car. He moved in front of Cas and opened the door for him, huffing in irritation numerous times. 

“Thank you, Dean.” Dean rolled his eyes at this, but Castiel saw the right corner of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. He turned stolid again and went back to his driver position. The music was clearer now that Castiel was in the car, and Dean turned it up even louder when the ignition roared and Castiel found that the tape, which was now halfway into For Whom The Bell Tolls, and the car’s roar melded together perfectly. 

Castiel listened to the words of the song as they pulled out of the motel parking lot:

“Take a look to the sky just before you die  
It is the last time you will”

“How fitting.” Castiel assumed he had thought this, but he heard Dean chuckle from the front seat. Cas looked into the rearview mirror and locked eyes with Dean, who winked at him.

Castiel looked away quickly, _What was that?_ he felt a lump in his throat, and realised that the fear was coming up.

_Castiel. You will be okay. You can do this._ a stranger voice reassured his mind, and he felt the lump go away. But still, that wink. He couldn’t get over it. And eventually there was only one question in his mind:

_Why are they being so cavalier about this?_

He batted it away and looked out of the window as they pulled into the trailer park that Castiel had seen just last night. 

_This is where they take their victims?_ He stared at the invite again as Dean opened the door for him and helped him out. 

_Go ahead, stay awhile_

_If I’m lucky._

Dean had his arm hooked around Cas’ and was leading him to the last trailer out of the three. Castiel saw plates stuck on each one next to the door: Property of D Winchester, Property of S Winchester, Property of D and S Winchester

_What a trick._ Castiel shook his head in disbelief as he and Dean entered the last trailer, followed closely by Sam. 

Castiel looked around the tiny home. There was a cheap coffee table in a small portion that was carpeted, sat in between two tweed couches that were an army man green. A small kitchen was on the other side, cheap cupboards and a plaster sink that had no dishes. There was a small hallway that lead to what Cas assumed to be the bathroom. There was no visible bedroom, but he didn’t think this trailer needed one. It wasn’t anyone’s resting place. 

\--

Dean sat Castiel down on one of the couches, him and Sam on the other. Cas watched Dean get comfortable on the couch, he rested his feet up on the coffee table and leaned back into the cushion. Sam stayed tense, he was seated on the edge, leaning forward and resting his elbows one on each knee. He was staring at Castiel with need, while Dean looked at him with a speck of amusement in his eye, surrounded by absolute intrigue. 

“So?” Sam flipped back the hair that began to fall into his face, and when that didn’t work he shoved it back with his hands. 

“I’m supposed to tell you a story.” Castiel remembered Meg’s words, and he thought intensely to remember all the wild thoughts he’s had. 

“Yes, a story. Your dreams.” Sam opened a drawer in the coffee table that Castiel hadn’t seen, pulling out a pencil and a yellow legal pad. He looked back up to Cas, waiting for him to speak. Cas looked at Dean briefly, he was staring with the same intrigue, but Castiel saw something else. He couldn’t place it, so instead he began to speak. 

“Alright. A story.” He paused. Staring at Sam he realised, this wasn’t a man who was out to hurt people. This was a man who needed them. He stared with the utmost desire, he sat with the intent of listening. 

This was a man who wanted to create. Not destroy. Castiel breathed in deep, and started in. 

“My name is Castiel, and this is what I’ve dreamt.”


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel didn’t know when Dean had moved from his lax position into one that pulled the intrigue from his eyes to his entire body, but he knew he was loving the attention. Sam had never faltered his gaze at Castiel apart from looking down briefly to scribble notes on his yellow pad. They both looked on him with complete respect, and utter admiration. 

He chuckled at the fact that these “insane assholes,” as Meg put it, could be so absolutely human. It was truly something to take in. 

“So the girl, she’s worked milleniums creating this..this Grand Canyon, but when her work was finished, she never truly took in all of the beauty. And she went away, for a long time. She went back to Heaven, until millions of years later, she was forced down onto Earth.” Castiel ran on and on about the girl who made The Grand Canyon, taking pauses for dramatic effect every so often. Sam took these opportunities to ask questions, and with each question Dean pulled himself up even more.

“Why was she forced down to Earth? Did something happen?” Cas looked into Sam’s eyes and saw a childlike glee overflowing in his hazel eyes. He knew at the start of the story that Sam’s eyes were a dull brown, but with every word that Castiel spoke, they became brighter until they were glowing. 

“Well, all the angels were expelled from Heaven. An awful, jealous angel was tired of being shunned so he created a spell, and that spell almost completely destroyed Heaven. The girl was sent down to Earth, and she felt so absolutely lost.” Castiel looked at Dean in this moment, and unlike the other times, Dean didn’t look back, but rather closed his eyes and began to bite his nails. 

“As I’m sure you guys are aware, being a human can be very troubling, because at times..you feel like you’ve fallen from some other world and now you’re dealing with all of these..these emotions and struggles. That’s how the girl felt.” Dean opened his eyes again and stared at Cas. He licked his lips and nodded barely at all. Cas nodded back in solidarity. 

“Castiel?” Sam sounded like a young child when he called out his name, like somebody who was too shy to approach a new teacher to ask a question. A guardian feeling crept over Castiel and he smiled slightly at the overgrown boy.

“Yes, Sam?” It was strange, this feeling. Cas didn’t feel in danger at all, despite the possibility that, if his future stories didn’t match up, then he would be killed. He knew this time, he had nothing to worry about, and he felt that next time he wouldn’t either. But still, it was all very...different. Castiel didn’t know that he could be so calm in a situation like this.

“Does the girl have a name?” Sam picked up his pencil and prepared to write.

“Hael. The girl’s name was Hael.” Cas looked up, imagining what this make-believe girl would look like. He thought her beautiful, and painted her as he saw. “She had beautiful bright blue eyes, and dark hair that flowed like the shadows at night.”

Dean shifted in his seat and spoke out, “Like yours?” 

Castiel was surprised by the sudden statement. Dean hadn’t spoken at all since Cas started telling his story. 

“Um..I suppose so, yes Dean.” Castiel’s throat suddenly felt like it was coated in chalk. He coughed for a moment before he could speak again, “Would it be okay for me to have a glass of water?” 

Sam immediately stood up and went to the kitchen to retrieve the water. He opened the fridge and pulled out a gallon of water and a glass from one of the cupboards. 

Dean leaned forward and whispered to Cas, “My brother really likes your story. He hasn’t been this happy in...man, I don’t know how long. Good job, Cas.” Dean fell back into his original lax position and winked at Castiel. Again. Castiel couldn’t help but replay what he had said. 

“Good job, Cas.” 

‘A serial killer just nicknamed me.’ Castiel leaned back with a feeling of both exhaustion and disbelief. He did like the nickname, however, he had to admit that. The way it just...fell off of Dean’s tongue. The most natural thing in the world. 

Castiel’s throat was coated in chalk again. 

Just in time, Sam placed down a glass of water besides his notepad and sat down in the same attentive position. 

Cas downed half of the glass before continuing on his story.

“Where was I?” 

“The angels all fell.”

“Yes, right. So Hael, she was trying to find a home in the world. And she remembered, all those years ago, when she had to leave her Canyon to return to Heaven. It was the closest thing she could find to home, so she decided to go there. Now, since the angels had fallen, their powers had been weakened. Not very much, but enough so that they could not fly. All their wings had burnt up in the fall. So Hael, she had to travel as the humans do; on foot, by train, by car. Lucky for her, her canyon was only one state over. She found a group of people heading from California, where Hael had landed, to New York. They agreed to drop her off in Arizona at the canyon. She couldn’t believe that the humans could be so..helpful. All her life she had watched over them, but now they were watching over her and she admired it so greatly.” Castiel chugged the other half of his water before continuing. Dean got up to get him more, Cas’ stomach tugged at the gesture. 

“Anyway, the group drove Hael to the Canyon, and she explored every inch of it. She was surprised to find that there had been additions to her work, but she welcomed them gladly. A lake had taken residence there, and many beautiful waterfalls cascaded down the golden rocks. Hael spent all of her time in the canyon, fixing all of the broken pieces and interacting with all of the people that found happiness when admiring her home. Hael had found happiness too, and she had found home. The angels eventually went back to Heaven, but Hael stayed millions of years in her canyon, watching it expand on its own. As the human race slowly went out, and the man-made world fell to a wasteland, Hael’s canyon continued to be beautiful. And she stayed there. And lived happily ever after.” 

Castiel watched as Sam scribbled the last of his notes. He saw Dean observing his brother, and noticed a warmth in his green eyes. They glowed with a deep compassion, and Castiel understood everything Dean did for his brother. He knew that Dean believe his brother a good man who lost his way. And Cas knew that Dean believed himself Sam’s guardian, and that he’d protect Sam until the Earth went away. He wasn’t sure how he knew all this, perhaps his eyes, perhaps his attitude. But Castiel loved it. 

‘I feel better with these two than with most of the people in my life.’ A strange, alien warmth overtook Castiel in this moment and he had the sudden urge to cry. Was his life really so unfulfilling that he took comfort in these two..these two murderers? 

The idea scared him, so as per usual, he batted it away. 

\--

When the story was finished, Sam invited Castiel for dinner with him and Dean in Sam’s trailer. Cas was astounded at the possibility of them being so hospitable.

“Yes, that would be great. May I ask something though?” Castiel stood up, glancing between the two brothers. Sam nodded and gestured as if to say ‘Go ahead.’ and he turned down to review his notepad, looking up every few seconds to assure Cas that he was listening. Cas thought on his words before speaking them, he didn’t forget who he was standing before, despite all of the civility they displayed during the story. 

“You two have been so kind since I’ve started my story, and even after I finished. What with getting me water and inviting me to dinner. What I heard from the others, though, is that you weren’t so hospitable. What-” Dean stopped Cas in his tracks by giving him a hearty pat on the back. 

“You told a great story, Cas. We only do wrong when we have to. But you, you earned your meal, buddy.” His eyes shined when he spoke, and Castiel’s stomach tugged again at that word.

“Buddy.” 

‘What is happening?’ Cas couldn’t understand the situation at hand. The Winchesters...they were so..he couldn’t place a word, so instead he spoke. His solution to an absent thought. 

“Well, thank you, I suppose. I’m glad you enjoyed the story, Sam.” Sam looked up from his notepad, nodding and smiling brightly at Cas.

“Yeah, Castiel. It was one of the best ones I’ve ever heard.” Dean’s hand, which had continued resting on Castiel’s shoulder, fell away and he took a step back. He looked at Sam and forced a smile. Cas quickened to fix his error. 

“I assume you enjoyed it too, Dean?” Cas looked up at him, tilting his head slightly to study the man. 

Dean’s shoulders relaxed and he breathed out heavily before speaking, “Yeah, yeah Cas. It was..it was great.” 

Castiel stared into Dean’s impossibly green eyes, and Dean stared right back. Castiel felt a mutual trust with this man, and Dean pulled up one corner of his mouth in a half smile before breaking the gaze and looking to the floor. 

Sam cleared his throat; the childlike expression on it had been wiped and instead there was an uncomfortable tautness in its place. “Uh, let’s go have that dinner?” He flipped the pages down on his notepad and placed it back into the drawer with his pencil. 

Castiel and Dean both spoke in compliance and followed Sam out of the trailer, Castiel could only hope that all the other days went like this one. 

\--

“So, Cas.” Sam took a bite of his Caesar salad, “What uh, what prompted your road trip?” 

The three of them sat in Sam’s trailer around an array of food on a simple oak table. Dean gave in to the burger in front of him, Sam munched away on a salad, and Castiel twisted around spaghetti on his fork. A Clint Eastwood movie played on the television in front of them, and Castiel found that Dean could quote it perfectly. 

Cas caught himself staring at Dean multiple times as he threw out Clint’s rigid one liners and matched his angry scowl. He had to repeatedly tear his eyes away in order to rid himself of the signature tug that his stomach would pull whenever Castiel began to admire one of Dean’s mannerisms. Castiel returned to Sam’s question and the pulling feeling subsided.

“Ah, well I-” He started, and Dean finished for him. 

“He needed to get away. At least, that’s what he told me when I carried his bags to his room for him. Isn’t that right, Cas?” 

His stomach pulled again. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Sam, have you ever had that feeling? Where you just need to..take a break?” Castiel swallowed a forkful of spaghetti, and Dean resumed quoting the movie, despite the bite of cheeseburger he had in his mouth. 

“Oh, all the time, yeah. This life..it drains me often times. But I think with your help, a lot of the weight on my shoulders will go away. I know Dean does what he can, but even he needs a break sometimes.” Dean pivoted around to face Castiel and Sam.

“A break from what?” He finished chewing and, with a swig of his beer, swallowed the large bite. He downed the rest of the beer, clenching his jaw and sending out an exasperated sigh at the bitter taste. 

Castiel traced his sight along Dean’s jaw, taking in it’s sharpness and the stubble that stuck out in all directions. 

There was that tug. 

Sam pulled Cas back into the moment. 

“This life. Near solitude. The things we..the things we do when we have to.” 

“Oh.” Dean scoffed and batted the idea away with his hand, “Nah, not often.” His lip quivered vaguely, he was trying to be strong. 

Castiel looked down at the three meals, they were all nearly gone. He realised that he’d be going back to his cage soon, and he sighed at the disappointment. He had enjoyed his time with the brothers, it felt like..a get together with old friends. 

‘What a thought.’ Castiel looked between the brothers. 

“So..” Castiel started the inevitable ending, “..what happens now?” 

Dean was the first to get up; he shut off the movie and cleared the plates, making sure Cas was finished before he took away the food. 

Sam answered his question, “Well, now we go back. The others will probably want to hear about your experience, keep it brief. You’re different than they are, we don’t want them thinking that they’ll get the same treatment.”

He spoke with order, but Castiel was relieved to hear that they thought him different. It gave him a better hope for the next story time.

“Alright, let’s go.” Dean spoke to them both as he dried his hands on a tattered dish towel. 

\--

Not much later, the three of them were sitting in Dean’s Impala on their way back to the motel. The music had been turned down low, but still Castiel could hear faint lyrics:

“I’ll fight until the end  
To escape from a true false world”

Dean bobbed his head along slightly, listening to the music and quietly tapping his thumbs. It was clear to Castiel that Dean spoke through music, they said all that he could never find the courage to.

He compared it to his own wild stories, and how he’d write them down each night. They said everything that he never got to tell his friends. 

Castiel felt a strangeness with Dean, as if there was a reason that he wound up here. A reason that he was so good at telling stories. He knew he could help Sam, and by helping Sam, he was doing good for Dean. And, Castiel also believed he was doing good for himself. Nobody listened the way that the brothers did, Castiel was always the listener. And when he was finished listening, he spoke only to comfort those in distress. Telling his story, even if it was only for today, let Cas feel like he was worthy of being listened to.

Cas felt okay with the situation at hand, and for all the days that were to come. 

\-- 

The ride back to the motel was short, and soon Castiel was back in his cage. Sam had thanked him for his story while Dean stood back and watched. Cas walked down the corridor and into his open cage. The door was shut, and it was dark again. 

“He’s back!” 

“How did it go?”

“Were they satisfied?”

“Oh of course they were, he’s still alive.”

Four of the voices broke through the darkness with their eagerness, Meg satisfied their curiosity by asking the right questions.

“You were gone a long time, few of us were starting to get worried. Did you tell a good story?” She began tapping, with long breaks and little pattern. 

“Yes. I told them of a girl who built The Grand Canyon. And they gave me dinner. Now I’m back here.” Castiel kept it brief, like Sam suggested he do. The chances that many of these people would make it out alive were slim, and didn’t want to spark a hope that wasn’t there. 

A nameless man spoke out, his voice was timid, “C-can you tell us the story? About the girl?” Castiel understood that he was there to comfort them, and so he told his story. 

“Well, there once was an angel, and she got an opportunity that not many angels did: to come to Earth and create a masterpiece.” Meg stopped tapping, and Castiel watched all of the shadows turn to face his cage. An anonymous sniffling that Cas heard when he’d returned had ceased, and the only sound in the room was that of Cas’ story. 

The others didn’t ask questions like Sam did, but Castiel understood that this was different. He wasn’t telling a story to get his thoughts out, he was telling a story to distract those around him from the likelihood that they would never see this Grand Canyon again, or any of the wonders that graced the Earth. His story was a comfort, and his voice told it as so.

\--

“...and until the end of time, the girl stayed with her canyon and watched it grow. She was happy. She was home.” Castiel had been telling the story of the girl for a long time, adding in imagery and conflict, and backstory. It must’ve gone on for at least an hour, and when he was finished the silence was strange. 

“You’ve got a ripe talent there, Clarence.” Meg was the first to break the quiet. 

“My name is Castiel. And thank you, Meg.” 

“Ehh, I’m going to call you Clarence. You seem to have a thing for angels.” 

“Well yes, my name was inspired by an angel. So I believe it has been an aspect of my personality since birth” Cas’ parents were more than religious, and the three siblings he had were all named after the archangels of Heaven. 

“Oh yeah? Tell us about that.” 

“Alright, well I was named after Cassiel, the angel of solitude and tears. He is also referred to as Castiel but it is more common to find him under the name Cassiel in angelic lore; my parents like ‘Castiel’ more and that is why I’m a ‘t’ and not two s’. Cassiel helped those who were overwhelmed by stress, and needed peace. The people would pray to him, and he would grant them a feeling of serenity, at least for a little while. I don’t know how fitting it is to myself, personally, but it is interesting.” Castiel thought about all of the people he attempted to calm with his words, all of his busy thoughts, and he took it as a connection. 

“Huh. Well you certainly calmed all of us down. I feel peaceful, don’t you guys?” Meg began knocking on the bars, creating dull vibrations that echoed almost silently into the room. 

“Yeah, that was an amazing story Castiel.” Becky spoke first, and the others quickly agreed. Castiel wondered what their names were, but he didn’t dare ask. It’s easier to let go of the nameless.

“Thank you guys, I’m just here to help you get through this.” 

The six of them sat in silence until the door opened later that night. 

\--

Castiel didn’t know what time it was when the door opened and the bright light engulfed the room. Only him and Meg had been awake, the other four voices were sound asleep. 

The silhouette was shorter than Sam, and his hair stuck up in the front. Castiel felt a rush of confusion overtake him. 

‘Why is Dean here? They’ve gotten their story for today.’ Meg sat up, she’d been lying down staring at the black ceiling for the past couple hours, trying to fall asleep. She looked at Castiel, it was one of the only times that they could actually see each other and not just hear a voice in the dim room. 

Dean walked over to the row of switches and Meg teased him, “Well hey there, pretty boy. Come to retrieve another story?”

“Shut up Meg.” Dean scorned at her and flipped one of the switches. 

Castiel’s door began to creak open, and Dean walked out. 

Cas stood up. 

“Another story time, angel?” Meg tried to make reason of it, but the only reason she had was that they did what they wanted. They could gather one story a day, or a million. Castiel still understood that he was at their mercy, and it was only breaking into the second day of his capture. 

“I don’t know. But I assume I’ll find out.” 

Castiel walked past Meg’s cage and she winked at him. He smiled at her, silently thanking her for the simple reassurance. 

With that exchange, he walked down the corridor and out of the door. 

Dean was waiting for him right outside as Sam had that afternoon. 

“Dean? Are you two wanting another story?” Dean shut the door behind Cas and gestured towards the exit. 

“C’mon.” 

Dean hooked his arm around Cas’ and led him outside to the car. Still Castiel noted that Sam was nowhere to be seen. Dean opened the passenger door for him and Castiel sat down. He shut the door and walked around to his side, turning on the ignition and lowering down the volume so that there was no music.

Before pulling out of the parking lot he turned and looked at Cas. Even in the night, Castiel noticed that his eyes sparkled with a hypnotising brightness. 

“I want to talk.” 

He pulled out, and began driving.


	3. Chapter 3

They drove in silence, and Castiel stared at Dean, taking in the way the moonlight outlined him in a silvery film of light. His eyes shined in the milky glow, sparkling greener than the Emerald City and remaining fixated on the dark road ahead. He flipped on the blinkers before turning into the trailer park. It didn't seem to matter that they were the only car on the road. 

The ignition dulled to a quiet hum before silencing completely when Dean pulled out the key. 

Castiel made a motion to open his door, but stopped as Dean put a hand to his arm. 

“Sammy’s sleeping, so you have to be quiet, because I shouldn’t be doing this. I’ll get your door for you. I don’t want you closing it too loudly.” Castiel rested his hands onto his lap as Dean moved slowly to open his door and shut it, wincing when it created a louder noise than he had hoped. His head shot around to look at Sam’s trailer before he made his way over to Cas’ door and opened it. 

Castiel lowered his head to avoid hitting the roof, and stepped out of the car. In the silence he could hear the dirt shuffling under his shoes; he’d always liked that sound as opposed to the concrete tapping under black dress shoes, it was more natural, he thought. Dean spent more time shutting Castiel’s door, and his chest heaved up as he held his breath until the door was clicked shut. His loud sigh broke the silence. 

Dean tapped Castiel’s arm and began walking towards his trailer. Castiel followed suit, walking into the new trailer and taking in the view. 

Dean’s trailer was completely different from Sam’s. Sam’s had no decor, simply what he needed to be comfortable. Dean’s was decorated with at least three posters, and on the wall hung an Arabian Scimitar. Castiel traced his eyes over the sleek curve, and he marvelled at it’s beautiful shine. Swords had never been something that Cas involved himself with, but this one so perfectly tied the room together that he couldn’t give it any less recognition than it deserved. 

“You can sit down.” Dean sat himself on one of the single chairs, propping his feet up on his glass coffee table and cracking open the beer he’d grabbed from the fridge. Castiel sat himself in the corduroy loveseat, leaning forward and facing Dean. 

Dean took a long swig of his beer, eyes closed and Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with every swallow. Castiel shifted uncomfortably and sat up straight, legs coming together automatically. Dean coughed and set the beer down before finally speaking again. 

“So, Cas. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you at dinner.” He crossed one foot over the other and stared at Castiel. 

“Um. No, you didn’t. I was occupied with your brother. Was there something you wanted to talk about?” He fell back into his forward position, staring at Dean and waiting for some sort of insight. 

Dean shook his head, “Not really. I just wanted to talk. Tell me about yourself.” He really wasn’t making this easy. Castiel found himself scrambling for something to say to please him. 

“What would you like to know?” 

“Anything.” Castiel silently calmed himself, Dean had been civil so far, but he’d also been a pain in the ass. He remembered then what it was Dean did. 

“Okay. Can I ask you a question first?” Castiel tilted his head down, squinting and looking onto Dean for any sign of give. 

“Go for it.” 

“You tell me to talk about ‘anything.’ But what is ‘anything?’ There are lots of ‘anythings,’ Dean. I can see this exchange is for your amusement. So I wonder, do you pull out all of the others on occasion and make them talk about ‘anything?’ I am sure they can be plenty amusing.” Dean uncrossed his legs, planted them back on the floor, and leaned forward. 

“For my amusement? Do you forget who you’re talking to?” The casual expression on his face had broken into a one of slight vexation. 

"I am aware of who I’m talking to. I just don’t know why.” Castiel pushed even more, he thought it good to stop, but Dean was being so absolutely frustrating. 

He leaned back into the chair and put his legs up again, “I wanted to talk.” Dean took another swig of his beer, “And no. I don’t do this to all of the people down there. I told you earlier, you’re different. You have thoughts I’d like to hear.” He looked at the brown bottle in his hand and tossed it to the side. It hit a plastic trash can with a dull thud and fell to the floor with another. Dean huffed and stood up to toss it out.

Castiel began speaking as his back was turned, “So..anything. I’m going to need more than that if I’m to create ample conversation.” 

When Dean turned back around, there was a small smile on his face. “Ah, there we go. And okay, more than that. Tell me about that crazy ass name you have. I’ve never heard of it.” He came back to the seats, but rather than going back to his single seat, he set himself down on the corduroy one Cas already resided on, leaning into the corner and pulling one leg up onto the couch to better face Castiel. 

Castiel pulled himself up further onto the seat, mimicking Dean’s actions in order to face him as well. 

“I was actually named after an angel.” Dean’s eyes widened slightly and he leaned up a bit. 

“No way!” 

Castiel nodded his head, “Yes way. My parents were very religious, I have three older brothers who are also named after the three angels in The Bible. Personally, I don’t believe it was a wise choice to name my eldest brother Lucifer, but he hasn’t been at all as Lucifer is in The Bible. My brother is actually quite kind. Slightly intolerant, but he is a good person. The other two..well Gabriel is very screwy and Michael holds himself on a pedestal. I still love them, but even I couldn't stand them for long amounts of time.” 

Dean chuckled at Cas’ utter disclosure and urged him to continue. 

“Aside from that, Lucifer told me that when my mother found herself pregnant with another boy, she and my father were clambering to find another angel. They pondered both Uriel and Raphael, angels who were mentioned in The Biblical Acrophya. They decided against them both, because The Acrophya was only found in certain versions of The Bible, and they didn’t trust it. So, they searched through the angelic lore, and found Cassiel, the angel of solitude and tears.” Castiel paused when he noticed the disarray on Dean’s face. 

“Wait, your name is Castiel though. With a ‘t.’” Castiel raised his head, understanding the small minute of confusion. 

“Normally, Cassiel is spelt as such. With a double ‘s.’ But there are a few rare occasions when Cassiel is spelt instead, with a ‘t.’ My parents liked it better with a ‘t’ so that is what they gave me. But the angel Cassiel really caught their eye because he was, in a way, the giver of peace. Humans would pray to him, and he would grant them a feeling of serenity. Of course, it didn’t last forever, but Cassiel did what he could for as long as he could do it. They had a other angelic names lined up so nothing was final until my actual birthday. I was born on a Thursday, and the angel Cassiel has sometimes been referred to as the ‘Angel of Thursday.’ They knew, I was meant to be a Castiel.” Castiel felt his mouth go dry, and he began to lick his lips. Dean pulled a water bottle from the table behind him and handed it to Cas

“I always keep water bottles lying around. Here. And man, that’s..intense. Lot of backstory just for one name.” Dean scratched the back of his neck and blew out a lengthy breath of disbelief. 

Castiel took a few swallows of water, “Often I don’t go that in depth. I just tell them the meaning, which is ‘My Cover is God.’ That’s the Hebrew meaning, in Ancient Enochian it’s..it’s completely different and don’t even-”

“What is it in Ancient Enochian?” Dean smirked at Castiel, who rolled his eyes. 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

Dean continued to smirk, and he leaned forward to Castiel, batting at his knee and pressing the matter, “Yes, yes I think it definitely does.” 

Cas sighed defeatedly before telling, “It means..” he quieted his voice, “Face of sexual desire.” 

Dean cupped his ear and turned it towards Cas, leaning forwards even more, “What’s that? I didn’t quite catch it.” There was insolence at the tip of his voice, he was baiting Cas, drawing out the subtle humiliation. 

Castiel sighed again, “Face of sexual desire.” 

Dean started in with a terrible laughter, “I don’t think that’s anything to be embarrassed about! That’s sure as hell all I’d tell people if they asked. ‘What does your name mean?’ ‘Face of sexual desire.’” Dean raised his head up and winked, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a smirk, “You got lucky with that one; wear it proud, Cas!” His smirk had opened into a full grin. 

Dean’s smile was one of the best Castiel had ever seen. 

There were wrinkles that formed in the corner of his eyes, which had shut as he turned away and reopened as he came back to face Cas. Smile lines formed, pushing his cheeks up and pronouncing them to convey happiness. The top row of his teeth fit in the opening between his pink top and bottom lips; his lips shined perfectly, showing off one or two small cracks forming in the smooth surface. Castiel took it all in before resuming. 

“Yes, well. I’d rather not draw attention from..people. And I am presumably less outgoing than you, Dean.” Dean’s smile fell small, but still remained an asset as he pondered the thought. 

“Ehh, I don’t know if my way of living would be considered ‘outgoing.’ I go into the city- about fifty miles from here- only one or two times a month. If I lived out there, yeah, I might do okay. But Sam’s here, so I’m here.” His smile had completely dissipated, and he swallowed hard waiting for Cas to return. 

“I can see you love your brother a lot, Dean. Have you sacrificed much for him, living this life and keeping these secrets?” Castiel tapped into his original self assigned purpose, attempting to coax Dean into letting go of at least a part of his heavy burden. 

“Nah, it’s how we’ve always been. I took care of him when we were younger, and I take care of him now. Sure, he’s a grown man but who’s he going to turn to when this life pushes him down? That’s why I’m there. Sammy’s well enough on his own, but everybody falls down sometimes.” Dean brushed away the idea of sacrifice, and Castiel felt the weight drop down further. 

He didn’t see this life as sacrifice, he saw it as routine.

\--

Dean clapped his hands on his knees, “So. Ah, tell me something else. Something about your life before here.” 

“I do not have very much to tell. I have friends, a stable job, and now I am here. That’s all.” Castiel wished the conversation would return to Dean, he could see a tired glow in his eyes, and knew that the weight should be gone before it crushed him. 

“There’s gotta be more than that. A dog, a weird hobby, a girlfriend..” He trailed off, and his tone was practically begging to see more into the way that Cas lived. Castiel granted him that. 

“I love animals, but I could not care for a pet with my schedule. I do not know if this could be considered strange, but I can understand people easily. Body language is a..talent of mine, if you could call it that. I can see into the emotions of people, and I use that to help them relieve stress. And no, no girlfriend. I don’t..I don’t identify with any sexual preference. If I find myself having feelings for someone, it does not matter their gender. I can still be aware of female/male aspects, but I have no preference.” Dean stood on that thought for a moment, one corner of his mouth pulled up almost not at all, and he recomposed himself quickly. Castiel watched, seeing every small movement he made and assessing it to fit Dean and the way he seemed to feel. He felt that Dean was satisfied with the response, and more than amused. 

“Ah, that's pretty vanilla.” His mouth pulled down into a sturgeon frown as he nodded his head. 

Castiel tilted his head and squinted his eyes, “Well yes, I am caucasian. I suppose they can be considered..vanilla.” 

Dean started in again with the laughter, his grin reappearing and laughs fading out as he bent forward and faced downwards, staying in that position until he asserted himself. 

He finally wiped at his eyes, “Oh man, Cas. No, vanilla as in simple, ordinary.”

Castiel could feel a redness creep up against his cheeks, it was warm against his skin and he turned away from Dean, staring at the glass coffee table. 

Dean reached over and put his hand on Cas’ knee, “It’s not a big deal, Cas. Vanilla isn’t really used as an expression anymore.” 

Cas turned back to him, eyes flitting down to look at the calloused hand on his knee, then back up to the emerald ocean that fell into Dean’s fluctuating pupils. The redness on his cheeks faded to a dull pink, and Cas didn’t feel the warmth radiating there anymore. Yet he was still embarrassed. 

“Dean..” Dean moved his hand down Cas’ knee and back up to the top of the loveseat’s backrest. 

“Yeah.” 

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Of course, Cas.”

Castiel’s breath hitched as he drew in air and blew it back out. 

“You said that I had thoughts you’d like to hear. Why is that?” Dean looked stark into Castiel’s eyes, a perplexed feeling sitting within them. 

“Exactly what I said, you have thoughts I’d like to hear. I’ve liked hearing about your name, and the way you told the story about the girl who made The Grand Canyon, and I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders, “I like hearing what you have to say. Why’s that so strange?” 

Castiel flitted his eyes down again, then brought them back up. 

“Because nobody else has.” 

Dean pulled his head back, confusion written along his face and his eyes looking around for any sign of reason. Eventually they came back to meet Cas.

“What do you mean? Nobody’s ever tried learning about you?”

“Well, no, not really. When I was young, my mother went away and I was left with my father. He was there, but he wasn’t there. And my brothers, they took care of me by giving me what I needed. No more, no less. So there was no conversation, and the times that there was, I was consoling them because our father’s long absences hurt them in ways unimaginable. Lucifer left at the age of eighteen after a large fight with our father, and he turned to Michael for support. Michael turned away from him, and I’ve only seen Lucifer twice since then. When I left my house, I made it my goal to help people. I saw the way that life had twisted my brothers, and I did not want others to suffer that. Humanity is..it’s beautiful. It deserves to be saved, and somewhere along the road of restoration, I’ve given my own opinions up. I still have them, of course, but there’s been nobody to share them with. Until I came here.” 

Dean stood up from the seat, staring down at Cas. 

“Stand up.” 

Castiel did as told and stood up, close to Dean. 

Dean reached forward and pulled Cas into a hug. He put his right hand on the back of Cas’ head, which rested in the crook of his neck. His other arm was snaked tight around Castiel's back, holding him as close as he could get him. 

Castiel usually wasn't receptive to hugs, but he fell into this one with Dean, wrapping his arms around Dean's back and breathing into his neck, slow and tired. 

A tiny whisper flew out of Dean's mouth and into Cas' ears. 

"I'm sorry." 

Castiel burrowed his face deeper, both ashamed to show his face and not wanting to let go of the warmth that he felt with Dean. 

Cas had received hugs from his friends many times, most times as a greeting. And he never reciprocated the hug, he always just took it as a quick 'hello.' But with Dean, he felt a need for this hug. There was something so desperate, so intimate, about the way that they both held each other. And Cas couldn't help but accept it, and hope that it would last. 

\--

They stayed there, holding each other for a few moments more before Dean loosened the hug. They were still close to each other, Cas could feel the warm breath from Dean's mouth, and he was sure Dean could feel his. 

"Cas.." He whispered again. 

"Yes, Dean." Castiel whispered back; he didn't want to break this fragile moment. The whispers that they exchanged kept the intimacy intact, and Castiel felt that if he spoke anything but a whisper, it would be shattered. So he barely blew out the words. 

"Can I ask you a question?" 

"Yes, Dean." Dean ran one hand down Cas' back and locked onto his loose hand, stroking along the back with his thumb. Dean's eyes fell down to look at their hands, before returning back to Cas' and stalling his question. 

"Dean?" 

Dean's other hand came around to Cas' hair, combing through the side softly, his eyes still a gentle gaze into Castiel's. 

Finally, Dean leaned forward, pressing his lips against Cas'. Castiel pushed into the kiss, eyes closing and senses sharpening.

In the movies, they always showed a kiss as being a blurry thing. The world slowed down and everything fell away. But that's not how it was for Castiel. 

His grip on Dean's hand tightened, and he could feel every crack, every line, every crevice on the aged fingers and worn palms. 

The hand combing through his hair was magnified and he could feel every movement; he could feel the hair falling back into place as the fingers moved to find more hair to grab onto. They brushed past his ear and a monumental tingle flowed down through his body, raising bumps on his arms and making him shiver. 

His heartbeat slowed, each boom thumping in his chest and pushing him further into the kiss, further into Dean. 

He felt the breath from Dean’s mouth, hot and sticky, gasps evacuating his lungs as he carried on the kiss. 

Their lips moved together, like two contradicting currents falling into the same pattern. Dean sucked slightly on his top lip, and a deep moan echoed in the back of Castiel's throat. 

He moved from Castiel's lips along his jawline, and Cas loved feeling Dean's scruff against his skin. A small whimper fell out of Cas' lips when Dean stopped. He resumed by pecking along his jaw, breathing out what he never said. 

"I wanted to ask..." He reached Cas' neck and brushed his lips along, trying to find the spot that he thought would pull the same moans out of Cas' mouth as he'd received earlier. 

"...if I could kiss you." 

A growl vibrated at the back of Cas' throat, and he barked out an impatient, "Yes!" 

Dean chuckled against Cas' neck, and Cas shivered at the warm breath, moaning when Dean began to suck on a spot just below where his jaw ended. 

Castiel tugged at the collar of Dean's shirt, urging him to take it off. Dean kissed Castiel's lips before pausing to pull it over his head and toss it onto the couch next to them. Dean grabbed Cas' hand and lead him to the bedroom, kissing him deeply before turning away. 

\--

Dean had Cas against the wall the moment they walked through the door. He moved back to Cas' lips, and there was a gentler mood this time. Cas had felt desperation in the living room, but in the bedroom Dean seemed to feel at ease. When Dean pulled back, Cas pushed forward and bit his bottom lip, pulling back to the wall and smouldering at him. 

Dean responded by yanking Cas forwards and rushing to take off his shirt. Castiel pulled it off himself as Dean moved them to the bed, Cas laying on the soft mattress and Dean gazing over him, taking in what he could as he fumbled to tear down his own suffocating jeans, boxer briefs coming down with them until he was standing nude over a half naked Cas. He began crawling over him, blanket crumpling with every movement, and a needy Cas waiting to feel his lips again. 

When Dean kissed Cas again, he never wanted it to end. He wanted to feel Dean's lips on his until the end of time; they filled him up, warm and attentive, working to make Cas feel like he mattered. The shivers that Dean's lips sent down his spine invaded his mind, the hair on his arms raised with goosebumps, his hands sculpted into fists, and his eyes melded shut, staring at an invisible fireworks show against the black night of his eyelids. 

Dean moved quickly down to his jaw, stopping at his neck to make a new mark before he went further. He sucked along Cas' collarbone and growls escaped Cas' throat. Deep, angry growls that flowed into Dean's ears and made him suck harder. 

He trailed all down Cas' tan stomach, pecking the faint abs, warm and firm under his lips. When Dean reached Castiel's jeans he looked up at him for approval, and Cas opened his eyes, desperation and absolute need pouring from them. He nodded quickly, whimpering at the absence of Dean's lips and the new feeling of hands pulling down the old jeans. 

\--

When Cas’ jeans and boxers were finally off, his pulsing erection arose and Dean licked his lips, moving down to kiss along Castiel’s v-line and pulling raucous cries from where Cas lay with his eyes clasped shut. 

“Dean..please..” His voice was quavering, begging for Dean to stop teasing him. 

Dean raised his eyes, looking at Cas’ needy face and he gave in.

He lifted his head, rimming Castiel’s tip and winning more moans, whiny ones that burst out of him and showed that he had lost all self control. And Castiel felt that he had. 

He ran his left hand through his hair, tugging when Dean moved down further, and pausing in absolution to release more desperate whimpers when he brushed his lips along while moving back up. His right hand gripped the blanket tight, bringing in as much as possible to satisfy the urge to grasp everything in his reach and hold on until it all fell to pieces. 

“Dean..Dean..” Over and over Castiel choked out his name, an invisible obstacle suffocating him and soon after pushing out the loud cries that willed Dean to go faster. 

Dean pulled up when Castiel began whimpering consecutively, telling him that he wasn’t going to last much longer. He moved his lips back to Castiel’s stomach, noticing Cas’ hand gripping the bedsheets. Dean slipped his own hand under, still holding himself up. Castiel felt Dean’s hand and gripped his wrist tightly, nails pressing into the warm skin. 

Dean made his way up again to Cas’ collarbone, brushing his lips along them and planting a hickey just below his right shoulder before he went up to his neck. He met Castiel’s lips and pushed in hard before breaking the contact yet again. 

Dean pushed himself into Castiel for the first time, Cas' legs wrapping around him and a tremendous shiver blowing through his body. Castiel reached an arm up and pulled Dean back down to his skin, hot and sweaty, begging for Dean's full lips to burn into his skin and leave secret red marks, something for the two of them to share away from the life they were both living. 

Dean complied by burrowing his face into Cas' neck, warm breath singing the tan skin, panting heavily and sending the same shiver through every nerve in Cas. Castiel's right arm snaked around Dean's back, nails digging into the skin and urging deep growls from Dean. His left hand held Dean's bicep, squeezing desperately onto him, as if when Castiel let go, Dean would turn to dust in front of him and be carried off into the invisible wind. He held on tightly, choking out Dean's name over and over as Dean moved faster and faster. 

Castiel's hand continued pressing into Dean's skin, raising a pinkness that tipped red at the fingers. Dean still breathed into Castiel's neck, and Cas begged for his lips again. 

"Dean." He swallowed and Dean could hear the lump in his throat being forced down, he was holding back screams. "Plea-" He couldn't finish. His hand tightened on Dean's arm, his nails dug in further, and he screamed a deep, fulfilled scream that threw his head back into the soft mattress. 

Dean burrowed his face fully into Cas' neck, pushing into the warm skin to muffle the loud, gruff moan that escaped his mouth when he and Cas both reached their peak. Castiel's whole body went up in flames, they burned through his skin as Dean collapsed onto him, hot skin against skin, fire consuming them both as Dean continued to breath heavily into Castiel's neck, pressing kisses in between breaths and stroking through his dark hair. 

\--

They continued to lie there, Dean atop Cas, each pressing warm kisses on their cooling bodies and Cas stroking lightly along the imprints his nails made. He held his hand on Dean's bicep, still fearing the possibility that he was not really there and would turn to dust the moment Cas let go.

As if understanding his fears, Dean whispered into Cas' neck, "I'm here, Cas." 

He thumbed through Cas' hair, playing with the strands stuck out in all directions. Dean pressed another light kiss to Castiel's neck. 

"I'm here."


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Castiel awoke to a gunshot. 

He was alone in the bed, blankets tossed aside on the floor and a thin sheet covering his bare body. The tremendous bang pulled him out of a dream, head shooting up and chest heaving rapidly; mind trying to get a grip on where he was. Out, in, out, in. 

The bright yellow sticky note prompted his memory,

_Had to get up before Sammy; just  
stay here, I'll come for you later._ -Dean

It all came back to him in a hot flash, his skin against Dean's, their lips melting together, feeling wanted, needed. Castiel began to feel fuzzy, a phantom headache pulsing slightly along the side of his temple. He wrapped the sheet around his lower half and swung his legs off the edge of the bed, catching sight of the clothes he'd been so eager to leave behind. There was a dull soreness between his legs now, and the absolute rush of it all came blowing back; it was needless to say that may not have been the greatest idea, because it was certainly coming back to bite him in the ass - and quite literally - as of now. 

Throwing on his boxers and jeans, Cas blinked his eyes at the note, scrawled quickly but incredibly wide, it was an exceptional contrast to his thin, theatric curvature. Dean's handwriting was thick and childlike, curving around and hugging the edges rather than turning sharply. 

Beads of sweat had begun to trail down Castiel's sticky torso, and he remained shirtless in the dewy trailer, walking out of the cramped room and into the kitchen. As it happens, the cabinets had been mostly for show, and while Cas couldn't find the use in that, he continued pulling on the cheap wood until one of them gave in. 

He’d just begun to pour out a bowl of cereal when Dean burst into the trailer, mid-way through pulling off his shirt. 

Cas turned quickly to face him, and was blinded by the shirt being thrown towards him. He caught it and followed Dean into the bedroom. Dean yanked a suitcase down from his small closet, and began tossing clothes into it. 

“Dean? I heard that shot.”

Dean froze in his tracks, turning back to face Castiel, as if he could finally comprehend that Cas had ears. 

“Listen, Cas. There’s good news and bad news.”

Castiel looked on, waiting for either. 

“The good news? Sam’s started writing.” He turned back and tried to shut the suitcase, but there were too many clothes. Again, he started throwing them. 

“Bad news, Dean.” Castiel looked down at the shirt he was holding; it was bloodied and torn. 

“Someone tried to get away. And now I-”   
He looked at Cas, shook his head and pulled another suitcase from under the bed.   
“No, we. We need to go to the city. Get dressed.”   
He threw him another shirt.  
“Are you sure that’s wise? I am a prisoner here, after all.” Cas’ muffled voice asked as he pulled the shirt over his head.

Dean walked past him, carrying both suitcases out of the room, out of the trailer, and into the backseat of his car. There was a large burlap sack sitting next to the trailer steps as Cas followed Dean out into the sunlight. 

“Dean. Who is that?” 

Cas stepped past it, as Dean rushed to grab it and toss it into the trunk. 

“Just get in, I’ll explain on the way.” 

He hopped into the car, slamming the door and staring at Castiel until he too got in.

Dean gunned the ignition, and they sped away, leaving Sam and a cloud of dust behind them. 

\-- 

“It’s over. Now tell me what happened.” Castiel snapped at Dean, angry at the situation he was put in, but relieved to be away from his awful cage. 

“It was the boy, Max. He was unstable, he got out, tried to run. I found him early this morning. He’s dead.” 

Castiel fell back into his seat, he remembered the quivering voice in the dungeon, just looking for some sort of safety. He swallowed hard before he could speak. 

“I assume you-”

Dean turned to him, his eyes were teary and he was gnawing on his nails. It couldn’t have been his fault. 

“No, no Cas. The guy was sad. Sam told me, he told me he needed help. I didn’t listen. He grabbed the gun we keep in the story trailer, shot himself before I could get to him.” 

Castiel reached over to the hand Dean was biting on and pulled it away. He held onto it tightly, rubbing the side with his thumb. He saw a tear fall from Dean’s eyes. One tear, that was all he would allow himself. 

“It’s okay, Dean. I mean no, a man is dead. But you didn’t do it.” He lowered his voice to a near whisper, “You didn’t do it.” 

Dean let his shoulders fall slightly, and his white knuckles turned pink again as he loosened his grip on the wheel. 

They sat in silence for a few moments more, just trying to keep steady breaths. 

“Dean?” Castiel broke the silence. 

“Yeah, Cas.” 

“Are you sure Sam will be okay with me coming along?” He gripped Dean’s hand tighter, praying for a satisfying answer. 

“What? Yeah. Sammy’s in the middle of writing. And when that boy gets going, nothing distracts him. Plus, I’m older. He doesn’t make my decisions for me.” 

Dean choked out a small laugh and began chewing on his lip, which quickly started bleeding as he pulled off a film of pink skin. He didn’t seem to notice. 

“That may be true, but..” 

“But what? I kinda need you here, Cas. It takes more than one man to dig a grave.” 

His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard at the backend of the sentence. 

“I’m sure it does.” 

Castiel slipped his hand out from under Dean’s, placed it back on his lap and turned to the window, watching the dust devils twirl by. He felt Dean’s fingertips brush against his jeans, but fall before they reached his hand. Their hands intertwined moments later when Cas decided he missed the touch. 

He couldn’t help thinking of Meg, and Becky, and the other voices in the dark. Voices who likely believed him to be dead, when in reality he was quite the opposite. Dean had rejuvenated Cas, in the best way. But, how would he ever explain these next couple days to those back in the cages? 

Castiel figured he would cross that bridge when he came to it. 

“Dean, maybe some music would help.” 

He looked over at him, and was met with a small smile. 

“Yeah, yeah. Grab the box from the back seat.” 

Dean released Cas’ hand and gestured to a box full of cassette tapes on the floor. Castiel reached to grab it, spilling a couple of them out in the process. A small laugh fell on his ears, and he brought the box up, managing a slight chuckle when two more fell into Dean’s lap. He was pretty sure laughing was the right thing to do. 

“Sorry, Dean.” 

Castiel smiled at him as he reached for the tapes to put them back in their box. His fingers skimmed Dean’s crotch while reaching for the second tape, and he quickly pulled them away, not wanting to make Dean uncomfortable. 

“Oh fucking shit, Cas.” 

Dean shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he glanced down at the very obvious bulge that he very obviously failed to hide. 

Castiel looked over at him, a quizzical look taking over his face. He had almost no experience with this, but to see Dean all riled up was all he’d wanted since last night’s engagement. 

“Dean.” 

He took Dean’s hand, moving it away from what it was covering, and beginning to unzip his rough jeans. Dean pushed Castiel away, and reached over him into the glovebox. He pulled out a small, hotel-size bottle of lube. 

“Use this.” 

Castiel squeezed it out, rubbing his hands together and again reaching over to unzip the pants. He pulled out Dean’s cock and began slowly stroking along the shaft until it was fully erect. Dean let out a slight moan before biting down on his lip, once again making it bleed. 

Cas continued working on the shaft, beads of precum dripping down onto his slick, long fingers. The car sped up slightly, and Dean chewed more skin away from his lips as he eased off, slowing the car down. Castiel looked over at Dean; a drop of blood fell off the curve of his lip, landing on his black shirt and soaking in. He smirked at the man, and leaned over to Dean’s side of the car. 

He moved down so his lips were just above the head of Dean’s erection. Cas traced his tongue around the top of Dean’s cock before wrapping his lips around and sucking on the pink skin just below his head. He still had his fingers wrapped around the base, and he continued to stroke along the bottom of his shaft. Castiel moved his other hand to Dean’s knee, digging his nails into the blue denim, and earning more whimpers from Dean. 

Castiel felt the car slide over to the side of the road and skid to a halt. 

Dean’s strained voice came out in a near whisper, “Get in the backseat.” 

Cas looked up at him, nodding with his lips still around Dean’s tip. He sat up, looking behind him to see an empty space. Quickly, he attempted to crawl over the front seat, fumbling and falling into the vinyl cushion. Dean laughed loudly, before shaking his head and looking out the window for other cars before opening the door, and briskly making it to the back door. Castiel laughed at the thought of seeing that from an outsider’s perspective, what a surprise it would be. 

He was cut off by Dean jumping into the back seat, grabbing hold of his face and kissing it, hard. They both fell back, laughing in between kisses. 

Dean whispered into Cas’ mouth, “I guess I kinda ruined the mood, huh?” 

Castiel muttered back, “Hardly.” 

“Good.”

Dean wrapped his hands around Castiel’s back and he pulled them back up to sitting position. He pulled off Cas’ shirt before yanking off his own and throwing them both to the front seat. He lay back on the seat, staring at Cas and unbuttoning his own jeans. Dean was careful of his erection as he pulled down the pants, maintaining eye contact with Cas all the while. 

Castiel began removing his own pants, while Dean worked down his boxers. 

They were soon both naked, on top of each other and exchanging kisses. Dean had one hand wrapped around Cas’ budding erection, the other running through his hair. He broke away from the kisses, leaning up to his ear and growling out six words that sent a shiver through Cas’ entire being.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Cas moved to look into his eyes and saw an animal hidden them. Just waiting in the bright green grass to spring out and grab whatever looked best. 

Castiel looked best. And the animal knew that. 

He moved away from Dean to grab the lube bottle left on the front seat. When he grabbed it, he handed it to the other man. 

“You do it.” 

He snarled at Dean, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down as Dean stroked along Cas’ cock. Dean slicked on more than enough, and Cas pushed his hands away before leaning down to kiss him. He kissed along his jawline, loving the feel of Dean’s scruff beneath his lips. 

Dean tried to reach for Castiel’s hands again, but Cas grabbed them tight and held them above Dean’s head. 

Cas felt Dean’s hands trying to grasp anything in their reach as he pushed into Dean for the first time, moving in and out slowly, winning gravelly whimpers from the man underneath him. 

He stopped holding onto Dean’s hands, instead drawing them to his hair. Dean tangled his hands through the dark hair, moving one to the back of his neck and tugging him down to meet his lips. He bit Cas’ bottom lip, and sucked slightly on the top one, earning deep groans that reverberated from the back of Castiel’s throat. 

Castiel retaliated by moving quicker, in and out until Dean’s breaths were ragged and short; until his own were almost nonexistent. 

Dean’s hands were still knotted in Cas’ hair, but as Cas moved faster his cock pulsed and he could feel the drops of precum sliding down his shaft. He moved one of his hands and began to stroke it until his heart was beating out of his chest and his mind was blurred completely. 

“Cas, Cas I-” 

Dean whimpered into the damp air between him and Castiel before being cut off. 

He felt a hand close over his mouth, and a deep, irate voice flow into his ears. 

“Not yet. Restrain yourself, Dean.” 

Cas took his hand away from Dean’s mouth and was met with loud, uneven breaths. Castiel wasn’t even sure he could restrain himself, with the way Dean was. 

His eyes were clasped shut, sweat sticking the spiked hair against his forehead, freckled cheeks painted with red. He was so beautiful, and Cas just wanted to kiss those cracked lips forever.

He settled for the next thirty seconds before Dean couldn’t restrain himself anymore. 

\--

It was loud, Dean’s howling. Only matched by Cas’ roars. Dean came first, hot, sticky cum hitting Cas’ torso and dripping down onto Dean’s. 

Then there was Cas, who came at the sight of Dean’s orgasm. His body writhing beneath Castiel, screaming out his name and running a hand through his hair, the other still touching himself. It was more than he could bear, and he felt the fire racing out of him, burning up his entire body and forcing him to collapse onto the other man, who was now lightly brushing coarse fingers through his hair. 

Cas pecked Dean on the neck before resting on his chest, and reaching for Dean’s free hand to hold. 

The sun shone on their bare bodies, and it dawned on them that it couldn’t be more than a couple hours past noon. 

They fell asleep together anyway, slow breaths turning into quiet snoring, and the warm sun satisfying the need for a blanket. 

\--

Hours later, they were awake when the sky wasn’t. The moon curved amidst millions of white stars. The sky an eery colour between indigo and onyx, contrasting against the stars and blending with the mountains in front of them. 

Dean was the first one to wake up, and he didn’t dare move in fear of waking the sleeping Cas on top of him. The moon shone on Cas’ tired eyes, down the curvature of his back, and Dean thought he’d never looked more beautiful. He moved a hand from the mess that was Castiel’s hair and draped it over his bare back, enveloping him as much as he could, holding him as close as he could, without waking the man who looked like a sleeping angel. 

He did, however, want to ease him into consciousness, so he pulled the first song in his mind and began humming. 

It was a couple minutes later that Castiel’s eyes fluttered open, revealing a burning blue fire that met with Dean’s grassy meadow. They stared for only moments before Cas spoke in his tired growl. 

“That song you were humming..Hey Jude..it’s my favourite.” 

Dean smiled down at him, cheeks blossoming red again. 

“Yeah..” he fiddled with Cas’ hands, “my mom used to sing it to me. Sam too.” 

The idea of parents had never come to Castiel, he always just saw Sam and Dean, helping each other grow into the adults they are today. 

“Dean, where is your mother? And your father?” 

Dean began playing with Cas’ hands again, looking once at him and then everywhere else. 

“Housefire. We were kids, she didn’t make it.” 

He cleared his throat before he could meet Castiel’s eyes again. 

“And your father?” 

“Years ago, I was twenty-seven. We got in a bad accident, looked like I wasn’t gonna make it but..” 

“But it turned out that your father didn’t make it?” 

“Yeah.” 

Dean was holding tight to Cas’ hand, even tighter to his back. Castiel looked up at him, astounded that he earned so much from what should’ve been the worst experience of his life. 

“You are a wonder, Dean Winchester.” 

Dean looked down at him, revealing a smile synonymous to the stars. 

“Thanks, Cas.” he paused, “Wonders get hungry though. There’s a 24-hour diner about an hour from here. Let’s get moving.” 

They both sat up, helping each other find clothes and sneaking kisses in-between before they finally started driving. 

One hour of I-Spy, bad pop music, and equally bad duets later, they were chomping away at bacon cheeseburgers and chocolate milkshakes. 

It was strange to think they had a dead body in the trunk.


End file.
